Crash
by Troker
Summary: It was a Tuesday in October when everything became black. USUK / UKUS
1. The Fall

**Crash**

_Chapter 1_

A Tuesday in October.

It was America's turn to host the G8 meeting at his place once again, but for the past hour, it was Germany who had taken over. America wasn't even in the meeting room. He had never once been seen by anyone that day. He had gotten numerous phone calls wondering about his whereabouts but the callers never got any answers.

But America was supposed to be the hero. He had managed to drag himself out of his house and get to the meeting building thirty minutes after it started. But before he could step foot into the meeting room he had rushed into the bathroom. That's where he spent another 30 minutes washing his face and staring at himself in the mirror. He felt like crap.

After he had coughed all of the mucus out of his lungs, America starred at his reflection once more. His golden hair was tousled even more than usual and his baby blue eyes lacked that little tiny signature sparkle.

"Okay…alright. I think I can do this. I just have to go in there, talk and look happy, right? Easy! You're the hero. You're the U.S.A. You can do this," He told his reflection. He knew he was sick, but so was everyone else and America wasn't going to be the most helpless of them all. He forced at smile to himself and walked quickly towards the bathroom door.

The meeting room was just down the hall. He marched triumphantly to finally take control of his meeting. He was right outside the door when suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks.

What the hell was he going to say?

An excuse. He needed an excuse. He was too busy coughing and spraying water on his face to think one in the past half hour. He started to whisper the first things that popped into his head.

"Alright so my alarm clock stopped work so I was late but then um…Tony! Tony's relatives abducted me and took me to their alien space ship. They did a bunch of experiments on me so that's why I'm sick and then I escaped! I think that should do it." America chuckled quietly. He was so clever. So clever indeed.

He peered through the little window on the door. Germany was presenting a slideshow about the economic crisis around the world. He seemed to be much more shy than usual on the topic, but no one else wanted to take the job that was supposed to be America's. Everyone else but Italy looked under the weather, but they were deeply focused on the picture and charts on the large smart board. Italy was humming a tune that America could faintly hear through the door. Germany seemed too upset about something to scold him.

It was time. America flung open the door.

"Hey guys!"

"Where the hell have you been?!" England's neck snapped towards America with a scowl on his face.

"Oh, um…Tony abducted my alarm clock and…wait, no that's wrong the alarm clock broke and then Tony's family abducted him, you see? No, wait hold it was Tony who - "

"Please just take this, Herr America." Germany cut in. He handed him the pointer for the smart board and scurried back to his seat between Italy and Japan. It was then when he finally silenced Italy's humming.

"Irresponsible child." England muttered. France giggled at the comment. He seemed to be the only one who heard it since he was sitting on his left while China was quarrelling with Russia on his right. When England turned to see who was laughing at him, France only smiled.

America walked up to the front of the room, pointer in hand.

_"Well that excuse went horribly" _he thought _"But it's okay. Just remember: Talk and look happy... Talk and look happy." _ He sighed heavily.

For the next forty five minutes or so, the presentation actually went according to plan. There was no bickering, humming or even coughing (at least no coughing that America didn't hold back). All seven of the other countries in the room seemed to be very concerned about the topic. Many of them were sick, as well. Not as much as America, though. Either way they wanted a "cure". They all did.

"Now on to the topic of the banks," America started. The faint sound of a flicker cut him off. It came from above him. He looked up. The projector was still on, but there was no light emitting out of it. He craned his neck to look at the smart board. There was nothing on it. It was black screen.

"_Are you frickin' kidding me?"_

He started to press random buttons at the base of the smart board. Maybe it was just asleep? But he had just used it. He checked every part of it. Maybe he was just missing something? The other countries in the room just starred in confusion, some in annoyance. America stopped his searching when he got to the top right corner. His face became irritated. He strolled up to the end of the table where he was standing at and put his hands down on it, back hunched. He gazed directly at France.

All heads turned in France's direction, although it took him a little while to notice.

"…Oui?"

"It says 'Made In France'" America said sternly. "Why the hell are you making my stuff?"

"Why aren't you making your own stuff?" China said bitterly.

France was insulted. "Hey! The things I manufacture are perfectly fine. I would know! I made them."

"The fact that you made it makes it a terrible piece of technology. And the fact that America bought it makes him a cheapskate. I bet he's just trying to lower his huge debt." Russia chimed in.

"Okay I'm going to have a look at it," declared Germany as he rose from his seat. He brought his chair under the projector and climbed onto it.

"Germany! Be careful!" Italy whaled.

"Don't worry I got it." He started to inspect it. "…It also says 'Made In France'". France broke out of an argument he had started with England about manufacturing.

"Eh, what? Non that cannot be. Trust me it's fine!"

"It doesn't look fine at all, you bloody frog!" Their agreement started up again. It soon boiled to the point where they were at each other's necks, pulling at their hair and ties. Japan got out of his seat and tried to calm down the heated fight.

"Igirisu, France-san, please stop this feud. We have a bigger problem to worry about." The short Asian country gestured over to Germany who was still tinkering with the projector. Neither England nor France seemed to care.

America fiddled with his laptop. Maybe it was something with the computer? He clicked his mouse all over the screen in hopes of fixing _something_. The smart board, France's manufacturing, Russia in general. Anything would be fine with him. But some clicks on a computer can't do all that. He felt a vibrating in his pocket and whipped out his phone. It was his boss. He sighed in relief.

"Ah, I'm so glad you called, sir. We're having some real technical difficulties here. It's an all-out disaster." America forced a laugh. His boss took only a few seconds to speak. His chuckling quickly faded. "…Um, can you repeat that, sir?" He gazed out into the riot that was the G8 meeting with a smile of utter shock on his face. "….WHAT?!"

The room went silent, all eyes looking, even England and France's, at America who was peering over his laptop. He shot up from his chair and turned away from the other countries. He whispered angrily "What do you mean…crashed?"

His boss hung up the phone.

America didn't move. He was frozen in place, his hand still holding his cellphone next to ear. He stayed that way for an uncomfortable amount of time. No one dared to make a peep.

"…The stock market…crashed, huh?" he muttered. The phone slipped out of his hand and banged against the floor.

Italy broke the silence "Veee…What's wrong with America?" America was swaying. No, the room was moving. It could've been both. He couldn't tell.

"A-America-san? Are you alright?"

He whipped around the face Japan. "Huh? Oh yeah I'm… just fine."

He swayed even more, hastily moving his feet to keep balance.

"America-san?"

All of a sudden, his hearing was gone. His vision was black.

"AMERICA-SA-"

* * *

><p>Black.<p>

Everything seemed to go black that day. The smart board, his mind, even the day itself. Might as well call it Black Tuesday.

America's eyes fluttered open to a blur of colors. He saw red, white and blue around him. Was he in his room? Probably. Thank God. A figure stood close to him. It seemed to be doing something with a bowl. It took something out of the bowl. America felt something cold and wet on his forehead. All he could muster out was a small moan.

"Ah, you have awoken. How are you feeling, America-san?" the figure asked. Oh good, it was Japan. There were voices coming from behind him. The words were indescribable, but their tones sounded angry. "Igirisu! France-san! Please stop. America-san is awake." England and France were here, too? Could that day get any worse? America's vision finally became clear (Well as clear as it can be without his glasses). The first thing he could make out was the two Europeans standing over him.

"Why, hello there! You slept like un bébé. So cute!" France reached out and began to play with Nantucket. America wanted to smack his hand away, but all he could do was lift his arm about a foot before his body forced him to drop it. Where had all his strength gone? Surely he couldn't be this weak. He couldn't!

"Ah…stop it," America whispered. France snickered and moved his hand towards the wet cloth on America's forehead, patting it.

England took a step closer to the bedside. "Well, do you want to tell us what that was all about?" America just gawked at him.

"…I'm home, right?"

"Yes you're in your room. You should be thanking Japan and I. It wasn't easy lifting you down the hall and into the car. Don't even get me started about getting you upstairs." He took a moment to sigh. "But I guess now isn't the time to be lecturing about your weight."

"Hey wait a minute! I helped, too, Angleterre!"

"All you did was drive!"

"If I didn't drive, then we wouldn't have him in bed all safe and sound."

"Wait. How did you get inside my house?" America asked through a cough.

"All we did was take the keys out of your pocket." England answered. America gazed at him suspiciously. England sighed and shook his head a little, then went off to explore America's messy room. There were clothes hanging on almost every piece of furniture they could. A few bobble heads of his favorite football and baseball players lined this dresser and empty coke bottles could be found in the weirdest places on his bedroom. Posters of super heroes were plastered all over his walls. It disgusted England. What was he? A nation or a high school student?

"America-san? We all really concerned about your condition. We do not want to leave you like this so do you mind if we stay in your house until you are better?" Japan asked, looking quite serious. America starred at him for a while and then averted his eyes over to England and France. They looked him as serious as Japan was.

"Mm…sure, but I only have a pull-out and one guest room." America muttered.

Japan only smiled at him. "I'm sure we can work something out."

America forced a smile back. He liked Japan, even after what had been happening with the war. He wanted to help Japan get out of the chaos it ingaged him in. But he didn't want to _be _helped. He could get better all by himself and he intended to.

Japan took a step closer to him. "Well then, I am going to go make dinner and some soup for you. Do you mind if I use your food and utensils?"

"Hm? Ah…no."

"Arigato." Japan walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door gently.

"How long-" America coughed "Will you be staying?" France, who had gone to play with his bobble heads whirled around to face him.

"Well, we are no rush to return to our own homes so until we feel that you have gotten better, we're going to stay with you!" He giggled. Why the hell was _he_ going to determine when he has gotten better? There was a long moment of silence.

"France-san, can you please help me with the cooking?" Japan yelled from the kitchen.

"I'm coming!" He replied as he basically galloped out of the room. He took a second to look over his shoulder at America and England, who was poking at the clothes lying on the chair in the corner of the room. He looked almost happy to be leaving the two of them alone. Too happy…

Once France had shut the door, England turned to America, holding up a baseball jersey.

"Sloppy America. Seriously, it's important to keep your whole house spick and span." England said with a tiny smirk. America replied by going into a coughing fit. "But I-I guess now isn't the time for a lecture". He threw the jersey back onto the chair it was previously on and jogged over to America's bedside. America's face was slowly turning red and his coughs sounded more like gagging. "Oh. You sound congested. Here, sit up." England pulled America by the arms out from under the covers so that his back laid against the headboard of the bed (It took more energy out of him than he thought it would). "There you go. Now you can cough all of that rubbish out of you." England put on an arrogant smile. He was helping a sick person and that's something to be proud of.

America's coughing fit had ended but he kept his mouth closed. He pointed over to the small trash can next to his dresser. England followed his finger and looked in that direction.

"Hm? Do you want the rubbish bin or a change of clothes?" America furrowed his brow in confusion and roughly jabbed his finger at the trash can. "Oh. Got it!" exclaimed England. He jogged over to the trash can and brought it to him. America snatched it from him and spit the mucus he had been holding inside of it, gurgling every last bit of it from the back of his throat. England couldn't help but feel a little grossed out. It was indeed _a lot_ of mucus. Once he was all done, America set the trash can on the floor and stared at England.

"…Why would I need a change of clothes?"

"Eh- well you are still wearing a suit."

America looked down with an almost stupid expression on his face. "Oh…yeah."

There was a moment of silence. A weird one.

"…So, America…," England sat at the foot on his bed. "Do you want to tell me why you suddenly fainted in the middle of the meeting?" His green eyes peered at him with concern. His face was as serious as ever. What had happened to America? America gazed over at him, making eye contact with England. He opened his mouth hesitantly. _"Finally," _England thought "_An end to my worries."_ Yes in fact this was it. He would have all the weight lifted of his shoulders with just the word from America…

"…No."

_"No?"_

"No?! What do you mean no?!" England sprung up from the bed. "I go through the trouble of dragging your arse all the way here and you can't even tell why the hell you passed out in the first place?!"

America groaned. "Shut up, would you? You're making my head hurt."

"STUPID BRAT!"

America winced at the yelling. "Okay I'll tell you. Just please stop screaming." He pleaded. England immediately felt guilty.

"_Bollocks"._ He sat back down, not daring to look him in his pained face. America took a long moment to take some deep breaths.

"I'd just rather not right now."

England furrowed his brow before muttering a small "Okay." He understood the severity of what America must be going through, being that the strongest (as he hates to admit) country in the world suddenly fell, but hell, that wasn't going to stop him from figuring out what the point was in spending his time and energy on this idiot. He ever so subtlety turned his head to look at America. He seemed to have fallen asleep in just the few seconds of silence. It was somewhat shocking to the Brit. America's mouth was slightly agape and his head was cocked to the side against the star spangled pillow. That little strand of hair that he had dubbed 'Nantucket' appeared to droop. He almost looked peaceful, apart from the red of sickness in his face. England sighed with a grin.

"If only you were always this quiet. Then you would actually be rather cute."

America instantly opened an eye. "Eh?"

A blush spread across England's face.

"Y…You were awake?"

"I was just dosing off. But you think I look cute when I'm like this?" America asked with amusement creeping to the corners of his mouth. To be honest, it angered him a bit to be called something that most little children are called especially when he was in this weak state, but because of England's look, his mild irritation couldn't have mattered less to him. His question made the smaller, fidgeting country at the foot of his bed completely flush. England opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but just as he did, Japan opened the door carrying a bowl of nikujaga.

_"Oh bless her majesty the Queen. Saved by the Jap."_

Japan and America exchanged warm smiles as quiet little island placed the bowl of beef stew on the bedside table.

"I hope I didn't intrude. I am very sorry for not knocking. It is very unlike me. My deepest apologies." Japan hastily bowed. America managed a small laugh.

"Don't sweat it, man. We weren't talking about anything important." England didn't know how to feel at the statement, so he just crossed him arms and made his face as expressionless as can be.

"Igirisu, France-san and I have finished preparing dinner downstairs. I understand if you would like to stay with America-san until one of us can take over."

"Eng-" America cut himself off with a sneeze "-land. You should go. I can take care of myself." America shakily reached over to the stew on very slowly set it in his lap. He flashed a goofy grin in hopes that his small accomplishment meant that he was all better. All England did was raise a massive eyebrow at him and thought for a bit.

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to eat something." He said, rising from his seat on the bed and following Japan out the door and closing it behind him. He stood outside the bedroom and counted to ten. Japan looked at him in confusion as he whispered to himself, But England merely shooed him down the stairs.

"8,9,10…"

He burst open the door and narrowed his eyes at the expected sight. America was sprawled across the carpet in England's. He was propped up on his elbows, trying to use his remaining strength to regain his footing. The poor country could barely walk, let alone escape. His eyes shot upwards in shock when he heard the older nation reappear through the entrance. He scratched the back of his head and smiled.

"Oh…hey England! You know, I was just getting that change of clothes!"

England hesitated. "That actually sounds like a legitimate excuse. But I'm not stupid. You were trying to leave unnoticed like everything in your life in currently normal. I know you don't want the aid of three other people who are supposedly inferior to the almighty hero. Just stop being so damn arrogant and just let me take care of you! Now get back in that bed!" He slammed the door with a strong push.

…

He said 'me' instead of 'us' didn't he?

_"Dammit." _

He froze at the second step if the stairwell, contemplating whether he should clarify that he didn't mean that _he_ specifically wanted to take care of America and be with him for as long as he had the opportunity…America can't read the atmosphere, right? So of course he wouldn't notice. Right?! He decided to race downstairs to the kitchen table.

"Ah, Angleterre! I am so happy you could join us!" France said and raised his glass of water into the air. He would of preferred wine with dinner, but he couldn't find any in the fridge. Apparently America was more of a beer type of guy. France and Japan sat on both sides of the square wooden table, leaving two open seats on both ends. England took the one closest to the window. "So, did you find out what happened to Amérique?"

England lifted up his fork and knife and stared at his plate of chicken teriyaki. He replied with a somewhat disappointed "No."

"Awww. Now we'll never know."

"What do you mean? You can just go up and ask him yourself."

"Well if he doesn't even tell you then I doubt he will tell anyone else."

"Frog. You're not making any sense."

"Just think about it." France pointed his fork at him. "He seems to have quite a few allies but not many personal friends. Out of the few he has, you're his best."

A tiny hint of red coated his cheeks. "Y…you think so?"

France laughed and Japan smirked silently. "Why of course, mon ami! I can tell he trusts you. But I guess there's no way of getting the answer out of him now." He shrugged overdramatically and focused on his meal. During the rest of dinner, there were only petty arguments and discussions about sleeping arrangements and theories of America's condition. But there was a question that England couldn't stop asking his brain:

_"He…trusts me?"_

* * *

><p>America had managed to crawl across the floor and change into a white t-shirt and some 'I heart NY' pajama pants in the time it took for the countries downstairs to eat. His nikujaga was back on the bedside dresser, untouched and cold. I did take him a rather a while to dress and undress, considering he had to do it on the floor. His plan of escape had failed so he merely came to the conclusion that it was not the right time. He would leave the house and do what he wanted eventually. He was the hero anyway.<p>

He spent 3 hours after dinner playing Super Mario Bros on his D.S. and reading Super Man comics until he decided he was tired. Not the most exciting way to spend free time, but it seemed somewhat normal to him. Although, if ol' bushy brows let him leave the house, he could've gotten the newest edition of Super Man at the comic book store instead of re-reading old ones. Stupid England.

He turned the light out at 10:30 p.m. and hugged his pillow. He closed his eyes, fantasizing about A blonde haired, blue eyed super hero with super strength. By day, he was regular Alfred F. Jones, but whenever he heard a call for help, he'd become Captain America! Hero of the world! Savior of th-

"America?"

He gripped the pillow harder in annoyance of someone disturbing his vivid fantasy, but he placed his other cheek on it to face England peeking through the slightly opened door. He was wearing a light blue button up pajama shirt and pants to match. He was supposed to using them for the hotel he had booked.

"Well…Japan being the humble man that he is chose to sleep on the pullout couch so I either had to sleep with France or you. I'd rather be annoyed to death than raped so…" His voiced faded, waiting for a reply. America blinked at him through the dark.

"I guess what I have isn't contagious so…yeah."

England waited a minute before he walked slowly to the other side of bed. He lifted the covers and got in as gently as he could. Their backs were turned to each other. He waited for America to bring up his use of 'me' earlier today, but America was simply too tired to talk. He let out a small sigh of relief and started to think to himself, his eyes closed.

_"Well, I guess it's good he didn't say anything about earlier. But if he supposedly trusts me then how come he's not telling me anything?"_

America had closed his own eyes right after he had said yes. All he wanted was sleep. He didn't really care about Captain America at the moment, but he had pushed something in the back of his brain until then. He wouldn't help but wondering;

_"What did he mean by 'me' earlier?"_


	2. Black to Blue

**I don't own Hetalia or the pic or anything and there also ****_a lot of typos_****. I'm raising the rating up to T. Forgot to mention all of this in The Fall.**

* * *

><p>It had been a little while since America had crashed. England, France and Japan were still staying in his house, treating him in hopes that the super nation recovered quickly. Japan still had the pull out couch. France still had the guest room. England still slept in America's bed. America still coughed up something horrible every now and then. And still nobody knew why.<p>

However, what had really changed was America's entire aura. It was hard to see that he was once a happy-go-lucky, overzealous, arrogant and loud fool. Most of the time when he rested in bed, he watched the news on the TV about his economic disaster or he stared out the window, looking at his citizens wandering about on the streets. There were an increased numbers of them out there than usual. He concluded that they had become homeless and unemployed. Because of him.

Now America was getting better. He had pushed himself to walk and steadily use his arms and hands, but that didn't mean he always went outside of his room. In fact, he only really left to use the bathroom. Thank God he didn't need help to get to it anymore. Japan still thought it was a good idea to bring him his meals so he didn't have to face the challenge of the stairs. While Japan cooked, it was usually England that cleaned and France that did the necessary shopping. They had all agreed that they should use their own combined money to buy things that they needed instead of asking America. America never really thought of the whole shopping thing, but if he ever found out, he would have felt a little guilty that they were spending their precious money on him, a sick and failing country.

...Failing?

Was he really failing? Just before the crash, he was the most powerful country in the world. His citizens loved him and almost all of the decisions he made. He gave them the freedoms that everyone wants but not everyone has. He let those who desperately wanted it come live in his land and he melting them into this big pot that was society. He had thought he was great. But now, he was starting to think that was in the past. Those grateful citizens were now poor and unable to support themselves…

One day while England was doing the laundry and Japan was making lunch, France, having no chores to do, was sitting with America in his room. Being that America was raised by England, we was thought at an early age to hate France. He had never been big on trying to get to know him deeply, but he did enjoy his presence sometimes. He liked how he was nurturing and tried to make everyone feel wanted. Also, he was a bit of a push over which America liked to take advantage of when he wanted to. However, it was annoying how he thought of himself as a big brother to America. His first big brother didn't end up so great so the the last thing he wanted was to be, in a sense, restricted by another. But it did have it's perks~

"Oh mon Dieu! Will your fever ever go down?!" France threw his hand up over dramatically, a thermometer in his left that read 101 degrees Fahrenheit. He put it back on the dresser and sat on the foot of the bed. He looked at America, shook his head a little and sighed. America just gave his a tired stare. Sensing the kind of depressing air, France put on a smile.

"Would you like to watch the television?" He didn't wait for America to respond. He grabbed the remote next to him on the bed and clicked the power button. Instantly a news anchor came on the screen.

"**Now more news on economic crisis in Ameri-"**

"CHANGE IT!"

"OKAY," France fumbled with the remote as he clicked the Channel Up button. "Why would you yelled like that? If you didn't like the channel, you could have said so." America mentally sighed in relief that France didn't really catch what the anchor women had said. He was silent as the commercials rolled along. He didn't wanted to do anything that would allow France to figure it out again. And France sat in silence as well. The only thing that America had really said in the time he came up there was that. It was surprising and a bit worrying.

A commercial for the newest spider man comic came on the screen and America's eyes lit up for the first time in a while, even if it was a little dim.

"France," The older nation turned to look at him "It would great if I could go out and get that comic book."

"Oui. I bet it would be for you, but it's cold outside. You should stay here and rest some more."

America rolled his eyes. Why had he expected a different answer? Once again, silence.

"OH MON DIEU!," America winced at the sudden outburst that sent a pounding to his temples. "Angleterre doesn't know how to wash my clothes. They're silk!" France practically sprinted out of the room, yelling England's name. He threw the door closed behind him and America could here the steps drum with each step he took. They were quick, too. He stared at the door, now left alone.

"_That was...weird" _He furrowed his brow. But that was just France. His mind went blank for a while until something clicked in his mind:

This was his chance. He was going to get up and go out to get that comic book. But could he really do it? He thought for a moment. Sure he had some strength back and everyone else in the house seemed busy. He made himself a little virtual image of his house in his mind. His room was very close to the stairs, the evil dreaded stairs. He decided he would just have to push through it to get to the first floor. The stairs led next to the living room. Separating the living room from the kitchen was one of those little counter/bars. He would be able to sneak past Japan using that. England and France were down at the end of the hallway on the first floor so he wouldn't really have to worry about them. Then he could just put on his bomber jacket which had his keys and his wallet and go. Awesome plan, !

Honestly, he felt a little bad that he was going out to buy a comic book when his country was in a depression. He wasn't even sure if the comic book store was still open. So many shops were closed. But he wanted to prove that if he was strong enough to go outside by himself, then he could show those 3 countries that wouldn't leave that he can pull himself out of all this. He could feel his old personality rise up. Therefore, he the mission a name that was totally like him.

Operation Awesome Hero Recovery In Your Face, England was go.

* * *

><p>Still wearing pajama pants and a tank top, America slowly opened his bedroom door. Knowing no one else was on the second floor, he quickly exited and very quietly shut the door behind him.<p>

"_No one will even know I left until I shove Spidey in their face" _He wanted to laugh, but he thought against it.

He inched towards the stair of doom. Grabbing onto the railings, he braced himself for some serious energy sucking. He tiptoed down the first few steps. He winced with every creak they made, even though they were so quiet only he could really hear them. A loud clang sounded from the kitchen and America instinctively dropped down into a squatting position on the step, still holding onto the railings for support. He could barely see him, but he noticed Japan in front of the stove, flinging up bits and pieces of food. Wait was he even using a pan?

"_Aww man I love hibachi. Too bad I can't watch it."_

America snapped out of his day dream of Japan throwing pieces of steak into his mouth and slowly straightened up his legs. He was surprised on how hard it was. He pushed down hard on the railings to help him. Once the small accomplishment was completed, his body ached to just sit down and he was almost out of breath. As he moved farther down the steps, the sound of France and England bickering became louder. America could hear bits and piece about silk and different settings of the washer and dryer. He assumed they were arguing about how to wash silk clothing, and to his luck, it didn't seem like it was going to stop soon.

He finally got to the bottom of the steps, his arms, legs and lungs aching. He immediately got onto his hands and knees to avoid being seen by Japan and crawled over to the mini bar. He laid his back on it a just sat there for a while for a little rest. Japan wouldn't be able to see him on the other side, so he decided to take his time. Over the yelling down the hall, he could hear Japan humming a little tune. He could have sworn he had heard it before. It was probably from that video he saw online once. It was were this blue haired cartoon girl with pigtails and a crown was singing some song about her boyfriend in a language America couldn't speak or understand, but he couldn't remember the name of it. He looked around his house a bit. He was able to see all the way down the hall. Then it hit him, if France or England even looked out of the laundry room, they would see him.

America peered over the mini bar so that just everything under his glasses were still in hiding. Japan looked deep into that cooking. He was clinging together all sorts of utensils loudly and America could see the fire of a little onion volcano. He went back down and swiftly crawled over to the coat closet next to the front door which was pretty close to his hiding spot. As slowly was possible from his crawling position, he reached up and turned the knob. He opened it just enough for him to crawl inside and shut the door equally slow. He let out the breath he was holding and relaxed back onto the jackets. He was pretty sure it wouldn't hurt to turn on the light.

He saw all of his coats and jackets, of course along with the jackets of his 3 guests. He didn't see his bomber jacket right away, so being the curious guy his was, he decided to look in the pockets of his guests. Japan's only had this little mochi candy in it that America couldn't help but eat. France's had some...well America doesn't like to remember what he found in France's jacket. And in England's he found this little notebook. America flipped through it and found that their were a lot of schedules in it for meeting and such and information he had been writing down about the important things that happened in his country. He found the page where the writing had stopped; his most recent entry. He had written in it a few days before the last meeting.

_**There have been a lot of citizens currently losing businesses and houses. Possible recovery strategies:**_

That was where it let off. America felt a pang in his chest. Why the hell was he still here?! He has his own crisis to be dealing with! Sure it wasn't as bad as his own but his people need him. Not America. But here he was...taking care of him. America wanted to scream. Or cry. Or laugh. Or smile. He didn't know. He didn't understand. He shoved the book back into the pocket with force and whispered.

"Dammit...England…"

And as if on cue, that's who opened the door.

* * *

><p>They just...stared at each other. Their eyes were both wide, their mouths agape. Both frozen in place. The second America shifted, England snapped out of it.<p>

"**WHAT THE HELL?!"**

Japan's clinging stopped and France jogged over next to the now tomato red England. France couldn't help but giggle.

"Ohonhonhon~ It looks like our petite Amérique is trying to escape. How cute~"

"What do you mean cute?!" England turned to France, "The little brat is going against everything I clearly told him!" America tried to get up by holding onto the coats that surrounded him, but the stamina had already been drained out of him. He slid back down, hardly able to move anymore.

"Aw but just look at him!" France walked into the closet and knelt down in front of America. He slipped one arm under his own and around his back and lifted with a little grunt. Once he was off the floor enough, he put his other arm under America and easily lifted him onto his hip like a little kid. America probably lost weight with the food Japan had been cooking for him. In surprise, he threw his arms around France neck and held on to his plain purple t-shirt a little while he wrapped his legs around his thighs, not wanting to fall. Now that America was secure, France put both of his arms under him. It really did look like a mother carrying her small (well not so small in this case) child of their hip. This was seriously the weirdest position he'd ever been in, but he wasn't complaining. At least he didn't have to try to get up anymore.

"He's just like a little baby, non?"

"On the inside, sure but he's a man, you idiot."

Feeling like he should say something to move the topic away from himself, he targeted the spoiler of his master plan.

"England, why were you going through the coat closet? You were supposed to be doing the laundry." He gave the older nation a glare just for effect.

"I was just going to wash our jackets. What the hell we're you doing?!"

...Well that plan backfired.

"I was gonna go out and get the new Spiderman comic. I can do stuff myself you know."

"No you can't! You couldn't even get up, you git! Why do you think I'm making you stay in bed in the first place?"

"Because you're an old douchebag!"

"WHAT?!"

"Now now you two," France chimed in "I think we should just get him back upstairs". Since France was treating him like a baby, America used it to his advantage.

"But Fraaance. Do I have to?" America whined with a pout and puppy dog eyes to match. This made the softie that was France hesitate for a moment. He gaze into those baby blues.

"...Angleterre. I think it'll be okay if we ju-"

"Don't fall for it. Now get your arse upstairs!"

"Asshole" America muttered.

France looked at the younger nation apologetically and hiked him up higher on his hip. He took him through the living room and up the stairs, England following behind. Japan finally stopped staring with a smirk on his face and went back to his cooking.

* * *

><p>France walked through the entrance of America's room and England closed the door behind him.<p>

"You know, you could have asked Angleterre or Japon or moi to get you the comic book."

"Yeah I know"

"So why did you try to go for it yourself?"

America went silent and averted his eyes. France just sighed and turned to England who had his arms crossed in aggravation. He put one arm back around America's back and held him out

"Here you take him."

"What? I don't want him!" France kept pushing America towards him so he had no choice but to take him. He was in the same position on England as he was on France. "Why did you give him to me?"

"Because I think you can reason with him." That was the last thing he said. They were both confused. America because he didn't think he needed any reasoning and England because France had just left him carrying America like a child. England exhaled angrily and walked America over to his bed, waiting for him to let go. When he didn't he leaned over a little so he could just drop onto it. He still didn't budge.

"What's wrong with you? Get off."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I'm not going back in bed."

England's face reddened in anger. He put on hand down on the bed and used the other on to try to pry America's arms from around his neck. He wriggled around a bit to try to get America to fall since he was basically hanging off of him. But America just tightened his legs around England's waist and held onto his shirt.

"Just off of me!" England yelled, now going from wriggling to full on shaking.

"No way, dude!" His arms fumbled a bit to stay around his neck so he ended up grabbing England's light blonde hair. And he pulled.

"Ow ow OW! YOU IDIOT THAT HURTS!"

"THAT'S THE POINT!"

England stopped fighting at the pain and put both hands onto the bed with a groan. America still hung tightly off of him. He was _**not**_ going back to bed. He heard a little scoff from England that drew his attention.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I just remembered something…" America furrowed his brow in confusion. "...as a kid. When I found out how ticklish you were." England narrowed his eyes at him as smiled devilishly. America almost looked like an owl the way his eyes had widened.

"Oh God. No, you wouldn't. You wouldn't _dare._"

"Lad, I was an empire. Oh yes I would." He leaned America down on the bed so he didn't have hold his weight anymore and so he could use both hands. And that's what he did. He knew America was extra ticklish at his sides and stomach. Ignoring all pleas from the country underneath him, he moved his fingers rapidly all over his midsection, causing a laughing fit from him. America's body was spasming and his grip from his neck was slipping. He desperately held onto the front of England's shirt. England couldn't help but giggle a bit, too. It reminded him of old times. And that smile. He hadn't seen that genuine smile on America's face in quite a while. He was starting to miss it. How bright and happy it was. Not to mention, this whole tickling thing was rather adorable. Finally America couldn't take it anymore and released his grip from him, blindly trying to move England's menacing fingers away, his eyes closed from laughing so hard. He unwrapped his legs, too and tried to use them the shield this stomach. England didn't stop tickling nor did he stop smiling. He was enjoying the moment.

"England please stop! I beg of you!" America pleaded between breathy laughs. England finally pulled his hands away and placed them back on the bed with America in between them. He smiled down at him.

"Alright, poppet. I guess you've had enough."

America took a moment to regain his breath. There were little tears in the corner of his eyes. England's smile soon faded as the seconds went by. He was still leaning over the side of the best with America below him.

"America...what happened."

He stared up at him, a little worried. England look so serious. He fact the he was basically pinned down was daunting. He wasn't going to move until he got an answer, was he? He turned his head and broke the eye contact.

"My stock market...crashed." There was a silence between them. America couldn't muster up the courage to look back at him.

"A-...Are you okay?!" England leaned in closer, in bright green eyes darting all over America's face in concern. America put a hand on his shoulder. He was a little _too _close from his tastes.

"Well...what about you?! Your people are out of the streets, too and you're here taking care of me!" He was almost yelling now. England just gawked at him. America's face softened. "Why are you still here?"

"Yes it's true. A lot of my citizens are without jobs or homes. But I could never let something bad happen to you and I'm sorry that I let your stock market crash. I've always been looking after you, as a brother once and now as a friend. I know you can probably get yourself out of this, but I'd be damned if I wasn't there to help you. I'm always there to help you. Do you understand me?"

America's breathed hitched. He looked England dead in the eyes. He could see the intensity behind them. Had he really been behind him all the time? Know that he thought about it, England was always sending in help when he needed it or at least calling when he figured out something was wrong in his country. How could he not have noticed it? He felt like an idiot. An insensitive, heartless idiot. He nodded slowly, the tears in the corners of his eyes becoming ones of sadness. England saw the sadness in his face.

"America…"

There was a knock at the door, snapping them out of the moment.

"America-san?" The door started to open "I have made some of your favorite foods from my coun...try…" Japan couldn't blink. Neither could the two countries staring back at him in a pretty suggestive position. And just their luck. France was behind them holding a glass of water.

"Ah! Sumimasen! I am so sorry!" Japan bowed over and over again. Everytime he bowed, America and England's faces got a shade redder. Still neither of them could move.

"Ohonhonhon I knew this would happen soon! I just thought that Amérique would be the one on to-"

"YOU BLOODY FROG!" England jumped up from his position and America scrambled back and sat on the bed. "We weren't doing anything! You need to get your mind cleaned!" He huffed and crossed his arms, looking away. America could only stutter.

"Ohon~ Then what exactly were you doing?"

England looked back at America. "It was just a tickle fight"

"Between two men?"

"We used to do it in the past. It was fun."

"When I walked in I didn't see any tickling. I also didn't hear laughter coming up the stairs~"

"Well we ended it a while ago."

"So why were you still in that position?"

"You know what, France? Shut up and get out!"

"It's not your room."

"America! Tell him to get out."

"Um...yeah, okay."

"You see? Now leave!"

France set the water down to the bedside table and waltzed away. England gripped the bridge on his nose. Why does everything have to happen to him? He noticed Japan was still there, his head bowed down and shaking uncomfortably. He but his hands under the plate he was holding.

"Thank you Japan. All is forgiven."

The shorter nation wearily looked up at him and started to back away. "I am sorry," he whispered as he shut the door behind him. England suddenly found the plate of food very fascinating, as he didn't really want to look at America right then. He studied all the types of food on the plate. Japan put chopsticks on the plate instead of a fork. He had seen America use chopsticks before at Japan's house. He could hold them and use them, sure. However, noodles seems to be his arch enemy and there was a decent size pile of them on the plate. He smiled as he remembered how America would raise them up above his mouth and they would slip through the chopsticks onto his face. England was interrupted by the sound of a grumbling stomach behind him. He turned around and laughed.

"You must be hungry! Well it's a good thing Japan came up here, then." He sat on the bed next to him and placed the plate in between them. When America didn't move, England looked up at him and gave him a reassuring grin. "What is it? What that frog just did or the noooodles?" England waved his fingers in a stereotypically spooky manner that made America chuckle.

Since England had not eaten either, America had him share the chopsticks with him. America kept trying to tame those noodles, but failed every time so England ended up feeding him whenever he wanted a bite of them. The stayed up there together for the rest of the day playing videogames, making up their own games and just talking. Sometimes their laughter and their shouting from playing games could be heard from downstairs. The only time England really left the room that day was to get America his comic book.

* * *

><p>America and England had both gotten changed and were climbing into bed. England was stifling laughter and trying his best to stop smiling.<p>

"Hey. Hey England."

"No! Don't you say it!"

"Popsicles."

England burst out laughing and turned his face into the pillow. He entire body shook. It was an inside joke. No one else would've gotten it. America climbed into bed after him and put the blanket of the both of them. Once England got his breath back, he wiped his eyes and reached for the lamp.

"I swear," He breathed through laughs, "If you tell Japan I will hurt you."

"No you won't. Michael Bay is under his bed!"

This time they laughed together. Another inside joke. After a full minute of laughing, England managed to contain himself. He put his palm on the other's forehead and gently pushed him gently. America just giggled at the gesture.

"Goodnight, you idiot!" And with that, England finally turned out the light. He turned his back to America like he did every night. He only closed his eyes for a moment until America started speaking.

"Hey England?"

He turned back to face him. "Hm?"

"Do you think-" He cut himself off with a cough "-that I'm actually going to fully recover?" His voice cracked a little as if he was going to cry.

England hesitated before feeling around in the dark for the other nation. Once he touched his hair, he moved his hand around to the dark of his head and ever so slightly rubbed a circle in it.

"You're the most stubborn person I know. Surely you won't let this bring you down. You can do anything. Right, ? I believe in you, America. Please don't ever forget it."

America hummed and yawned. "I won't."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

England moved his hand to his shoulder blades and rubbed little circles in between them. America shifted to a more comfortable position with a peaceful look on his face. While England rubbed his circles, America fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: So soooo sorry this took so long. I was so preoccupied that I had no time and I forgot about it. I also moved from America to England resently...huh...Anyways I finished this chapter all today so don't forgot to review!<strong>


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